None of what's hanging there is appropriate for a wedding this weekend.
As panic sets in, I realize I have to shop for a dress. And shoes. It simply won't do to pair a dressy little thing with Danskos. Even the leopard print patent leather Danskos won't fit in at such an event.
As if that's not bad enough, my life in capri pants, scrubs, t-shirts and tank tops has given me some odd looking tan marks (but that will be fixed with a spray tan). My hair needs to be cut and my nails need a miracle worker.
I'm about to do something I've not done in a long time: go dress shopping. Fancy dress shopping. I'm surrounded by resale and consignment shops, so I'm going to start there. If I see nothing by the time my shift starts, I'll branch out to discount retail stores by tomorrow and if there is nothing there, I'll bite the bullet and go to Nordstrom later in the week. I only have until Saturday to find something to wear. Lord knows I don't look as good as the woman in the Bluefly.com commercial who looks in her closet, finds nothing to wear and so goes naked to the party. My ACLS skills are rusty, and I don't want to be responsible for anyone's cardiac arrest.
When in the world did shopping become such a chore?
And where did I pack my Spanx?
Wish me and my fat rolls luck. We have a little miracle to perform by week's end.